


This is War

by iAnneart



Category: Happy Tree Friends
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:56:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1942005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iAnneart/pseuds/iAnneart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't over. And he'll defeat him, just for her. He'll make sure of it. No matter what the cause.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is War

* * *

.

.

He hated him.

He despised the way he lived to kill instead of killing to live and the way he made the blood of his friends flow freely like rivers. He detested how little significance he bore to the lives of those who were near and dear to him, and how he enjoyed not only assassinating but torturing them slowly until the last flame of life extinguished from their agonizing souls. He loathed the way he laughed darkly each time someone screamed in fear at seeing him, bowie-knife raised up menacingly or itching fingers ready to strangle. He was absolutely livid at how he managed to grow so much power in relatively short span of time, how he could appear almost at will, and he couldn't control him. The reasons for the great abhorrence for him were abundant and plentiful, but there was one case in which made him  _despise_  the sadistic personality more than anything in the world.

Because of  _him,_ he lost the closest friendship one could ever hope for.

Flippy sighed miserably, raising a green mitten-like hand to retrieve the checkered beret from his head. He looked at it tentatively, stroking the rough fabric softly for a couple of minutes before his fingers curled into the beret. The clear image of a cautious yet adorably charming red porcupine materialized in his mind, her nervous laugh and the way her feet pointed inwardly when she was anxious or afraid. Every little quirk she had that made her unique invaded his head. He slowly crushed the one of his most prized possessions into a crumpled up cloth ball, black pac-man eyes staring off into the nothingness. His hands shook slightly in growing anger, anger at  _him_. Everything even slightly askew in his life; he was the culprit.

He lost his inner peace, his sanity, his happiness,  _her_   _trust_...and so much more. And all because of the psychopathic bastard.

That's what hurt him the most. He lost  _her_ trust.

Everyone at Happy Tree Valley greeted him with a smile on their face, called him 'friend', invited him to special occasions or casual hang outs, and he was eternally grateful that they didn't shun him as they rightfully should have. They acted like  _he_ never existed. Or at least, until he actually appeared. But, he knew all of them wore the smile because they felt liked they needed to. He didn't know if they felt pity for him, felt absolute terror, or they actually were trying to give him a chance-maybe a combination of all three-but he saw it for what it was. Fake. He really couldn't blame any of them, it's only natural to want to stay away from someone who kills you frequently. They tried their best, he had to give them that, all of them...but no one tried as much as Flaky did.

It was astounding how very literally she had immersed herself in making him feel like he belonged. He even started to feel like she genuinely felt happy to see him, like her smile wasn't as fake as the others. Like maybe she actually not only considered him a friend, but a  _true_ close friend _._ He still remembered the first time he realized this. It was three years ago, when she threw a surprise birthday party for him. He felt so  _happy_ that instant, knowing someone actually cared for him to make this type of grand gesture, he actually teared up a little. Everyone, of course, went along with it and like always, he was very thankful for their part in the celebration's preparation. But nobody impacted him the way she did. She had such a big smile on her face, such radiance about her that signaled happiness,a beautiful sight, that he was completely sure,  _no one_ could fake it this much.

All of this, everything! It was  _real_.

Of course,  _he_ always had to fuck everything up. He didn't know it at that time, in fact he didn't know  _he_ existed until quite recently actually, but his other side had outright massacred everyone in the party. He murdered those who actually put enough time and care to celebrate his birthday, and he repays them with their blood. It sickened him.

It was not until much later, when Flaky own terrified scream snapped him out of his bloodthirsty rampage in the carnival, when he actually realized what type of  _monster_ he was. And what always boggled his mind was how everyone seemed okay with not telling him about how he 'randomly' starts killing people for the hell of it. It's like they were trying to protect him from himself. Before, he had no clue of what transpired around him, although he noticed he would get suspiciously pattern-like black outs.

Hear,see something remotely close to war: black out.

Every.

Single.

Time.

He  _also_ noticed the black outs started to occur much more than before. And as his black outs progressed, Flaky slowly but surely grew more distanced to him. She didn't try to even fake the smile like the rest of them did anymore. She started shaking slightly, her dandruff falling in large quantities at the sight of him. Her eyes grew wide with fear when near him. She was completely and absolutely terrified of him now. How sad and pathetic is it when someone who you consider is your best friend doesn't want to be near you? It confused him, but more than that, it made his battered heart hurt. He had no idea why she had decided to leave him hanging instead of offering a ride, when he knew she clearly saw him and it was obvious it would start to rain soon. He had no idea why she was freaking out so much being in close vicinity to him when all he wanted to do was be nice. He had no idea why in the  _world_ she would try to kill him on  _purpose_.

As the cursed animals they were, accidental killings were just that: accidents. After all, they'd be back tomorrow good as new. But to kill someone on purpose? That was an entirely different story. And  _her_ killing anyone on purpose? If anyone had told him, he would have laughed at the ridiculousness. She wouldn't hurt a fly! Or at least, not intentionally.

But she did.

She killed  _him_.

And he had no idea why.

It was his first indication that something was wrong. She was the first one who, indirectly, began the process of uncovering his other personality. And after time, he had finally figured out the many whys in his time in Happy Tree Valley. But it was too late to say sorry, to try and make amends with the porcupine. She was gone, completely rid of him. She avoided him like the plague, all because she knew there was someone inside him that didn't make her feel happy at all. There was someone who would relish in seeing her bleed. It was completely rational, logical, and so  _like_ her to do such a thing, he knew he couldn't even harbor a sliver of animosity towards her. After all, a timid shy one like her wouldn't be hanging out with the likes of him. It was common sense. He knew it.

But it still broke his heart, knowing he lost her friendship.

He noticed something different now that he knew, every time  _he_ came out. He could actually  _see_  the carnage in front of him as his evil side murdered them mercilessly. It was horrible to watch his friends being gutted, dismembered, tortured by his own hands. He never had a choice but to watch in self-disgust, tears streaking his face all the while he was mute by force. But it was fucking _horrifying_ seeing HER in his line of sight, knowing the psycho was in control. He feared the worst for her, and somehow without him noticing, he could finally muster enough strength, enough _willpower_ to scream out at his loudest from the recesses of his mind. He didn't always have the power to voice his protests against her, however. When he'd moved to the Valley, when they were only friends,  _he_ was too powerful for him to even utter a peep. But his voice grew stronger in time, from making an almost inaudible whisper, to whimpering, and raising his pitch louder and louder until he could scream.

He discovered by his own self, that he'd always been watching with horror while the monster went on to create his bloodbath. He'd just immediately forget about it the minute he reverted back to himself. He knew this now. He had reoccurring memories of killing them all. When they played and seek (he never knew why the game had ended so soon, and he didn't even look for them!), when he went to the burger joint (he felt the metallic coppery taste on his tongue strange for days after the day), it didn't end!

And...when they were celebrating his birthday. It was a revelation to him when he looked back at the certain memory, when he was trapped in the confined in his mind all the while watching  _him_ painting the room in red...that he'd actually gained control once. His evil side already broken through, but somehow he could regain his body back all the while thinking that SHE was right in front of him. SHE would be the one to feel the full extent of  _his_ cruel ways of fun. And later, when  _he_ could no longer be contained, when  _he_  finished almost everyone off, his yellow-green irises scanned the room looking for his next victim, and his eyes detected the reddish-purplish ball of spikes that was her, he had screamed from his mind with all his power to do so. He had screamed so loudly, ordering him to not lay a  _finger_ on her, the psychopath had felt a slight headache and decided not to even bother with her and go instead for the anteater hiding in the blue barrel.

And boy did he scream.

_STOP IT! DON'T KILL HER! NO, DON'T DO IT, YOU DAMN PARASITE!_

He felt a bit optimistic then, there was some control he still had! Sure, after curing his PTSD, he was soon run over and therefore, he couldn't confront  _him_ again face to face as he had no idea how he did the first time, so he was stuck in the same situation as before. But now, he knew he had something to his advantage. He could influence decisions now. It was only regarding to her, and he tried to voice himself with others but time and time again, silenced came out of his mouth. Nevertheless, it was a huge step forward and he could improve after time passes. Who knew, maybe he'll be strong enough to scream out for everyone one day. He could only hope.

It was a full-on war for him everyday.

He battled with  _him_ with this same advantage any chance he reared his ugly head, and he beat  _him_  another separate time when he was the part-time librarian, but it seemed that it wasn't 100% full proof. He ended up losing his voice, at the swimming contest. He shed so many tears, for days on end for it, not because of his defeat, but what him losing control meant: killing her.

He didn't want to kill her anymore! He didn't want her to be afraid of him anymore. He wanted her to smile at him again, he wanted her to at least be more comfortable with him -knowing it was a struggle for Flipqy to harm her-

No, Flippy wanted have her  _friendship_  again. He wanted her  _trust_.

_And Dammit!-_

He smoothed his checkered beret and put it atop of his furry head in a harsh move of angry determination.

_-I'm gonna get Flaky's trust._

_I'll tame the beast.  
..._ _No matter what._

.

.

* * *


End file.
